


Break

by magicalmagic



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Injury, M/M, Pain, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:09:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1999758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalmagic/pseuds/magicalmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the take down of Hydra, Bucky was supposed to be safe to pick up the pieces of his broken life with Steve. They weren't supposed to find him again, to bring him back to face the chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break

Bucky breathed in and out harshly, his body trembling in panic. He knew these walls that surrounded him, trapping him. The dried blood that somehow remained after all these years, staining the grey, moldy floor. The sharp stench of coppery blood and piss and vomit. Of fear, a hysteric part of his mind whispered.

It was where Hydra kept him between experiments, where he was thrown in after his mission reports, where he licked his wounds after being punished. The room between the chair and his missions. Bucky’s breathing sped up with fear, ribs aching while wet, gasping pants filled the room. He prodded at his ribs carefully, hissing at the pain. Definitely broken. He shifted his right leg. Waves of pain rushed to his head, spiking sparks flying behind his eyes. 

After letting out a sharp cry of agony, he bit his lip so hard it bled, and bile rose to the back of his throat. Bucky pushed down the pain and breathed hard through his nose until the urge to vomit lessened. He carefully raised his human hand to his face, rubbing away the tears that escaped his eyes and smeared the blood off of his chin. He slowly slid his pant leg up, almost blacking out when the material grazed a broken area. But James Buchanan Barnes ain’t nothing but a stubborn son of a gun, and continued until the material was pushed halfway up his thigh. Thank God he was wearing his loose pants today and not his usual skin tight sparring ones.

He examined his leg, eyes sharply cataloging the breaks and discolorations. Yep, the leg was broken in at least three places, and the ankle was completely crushed. Despair rose up in Bucky. He wasn’t even sure how long it would take the mutated serum Dr. Zola injected him with to heal that. He would almost never get an injury this severe during a mission. His enemies usually wouldn’t even get that close to attempt it. However, flawless fight skills or not, the training he’d been through wouldn’t hold up to a building collapsing on him and concrete falling on his body.

He couldn’t get out. He couldn’t even stand up, let alone take down the guards that were likely stationed outside his door. With a cry of rage, he slammed his metal arm into the wall he was leaning on, the arm whirring when it struck unmovable stone. Goddammit! He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, tugging hard. What the hell should he do now?

Hope blossomed in his chest. “Steve will come,” he whispered to the empty room, his voice hoarse from screaming, “Steve will rescue me.” _‘Like the last time?’_ A cruel voiced hissed from the back of his mind, _‘He didn’t even search for you when you fell.’_

“Shut the fuck up!” Bucky insisted to the air, scowling, “He promised me. He PROMISED me!” Steve promised that he would never let Hydra get Bucky again, he swore it on God and his shield and the America he fights for every day and everything he holds dear. He whispered the promise every time Bucky woke up shaking in his arms after a nightmare, when Bucky had flashbacks that left him screaming and sobbing, and when Bucky couldn’t even leave the bed because his fear and paranoia rushing through his body left him unmoving. Steve wouldn’t break that promise. He wouldn’t! 

But what if Steve gets here too late? What if they put him back in the chair, reprogram him, and he becomes their mindless toy once more? NO! No, he’d rather die than forget Steve again. His eyes darted around the bare cell frantically. If only there was some weapon, a knife, a gun, hell, a pencil would be useful... Bucky quickly pushed his spiraling downwards train of thoughts out of his mind (for now). Steve wouldn’t want Bucky to kill himself. And he wasn’t sure if Steve could properly watch his back without him there. Okay. Bucky breathed sharply in and out, trying to even out his panicked breathing. He needed to stay alive. For Steve. 

He looked down at his broken leg. God damn it hurt like a bitch, a lot more than his ribs do. His programming to ignore pain could only go so far, and the urge to vomit was starting to return. Steve better get here soon, Bucky huffed, trying to shift into a more comfortable position against the wall without moving his leg. All he could do now is wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first fanfiction so I hope you liked it :) There will be flashbacks to how Bucky got captured and Steve/Bucky after the events of the Winter Soldier.
> 
> I would also like to thank nepetation, who was my beta. She's got amazing fics, you should check her out if you have time ^...^


End file.
